


On the Wings of Freedom

by dragonwarrior1523



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Minor Violence, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 10:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20993198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwarrior1523/pseuds/dragonwarrior1523
Summary: The darker side of science. What if mythical creature really existed and humans discovered them? One-shot. Sorry for the bad summary!





	On the Wings of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first work, and I decided to do an original story. This is edited from something I wrote in my creative writing class in high school that I liked. Our assignment was to choose one of the pictures the teachers showed us and write a story around that image. Let me know what you think, and please point out any grammatical mistakes or make suggestions for improving the formatting and story, I would really like to improve as a writer. Thanks for reading!

In a white, sterile room, lined with locked metal cabinets and beakers and microscopes and syringes, there lies a storage room. In the storage room, on the end of the farthest right row, sits a metal box. The box is sealed with silicone and a row of locks that require multiple keys. The top of the box is perforated with tiny holes, just enough for the creature inside to breathe. The small creature has long ears with crinkled edges that stick up out of his head. His pale, wrinkled skin puckers around their small mouth. Tiny eyes squint out from between the long tail with a bushy tuft that wraps around a quivering body. Frail, wrinkled fingers and toes peek out from beneath the tail. He shivers in the all-consuming darkness of the box, exhausted from their surprisingly strong attempts to punch and kick their way out. The pitiful amount of food and water that he’d been given is already gone. He had been forced to eat it, even though his usual diet consisted of plants. Through the box, the creature could hear the sound of others shifting in the cages and jars that fill the shelves. 

A door opened, metal screeching against metal. The creature huddles into himself even more as he hears the tap, tap, tap of footsteps getting closer. He feels himself being lifted up, and he jolts around the box as he is carried away. The sudden bright light blinds the creature for a moment as the box opens with lots of jingling and whirring of machines. The creature cries out as hands reach in and lift him from the box, setting him on a table as cold as ice. A harsh voice growls furiously at him, and when he doesn’t stop crying, a rough hand forcefully yanks him from the table and holds him dangling in the air. The creature’s cries immediately quiet to mournful whimpers before silencing as he is jerked around causing pain to spike through his tail.

He is set down once more, and the creature feels bands clamp down around his hands and feet, trapping them to the table. The creature struggles, trying to use his unusual strength to free himself. This time something sharp and pointy pierces through his arm, and his movements immediately begin to slow as the serum circulates through his system. The last thing he registers before he is overcome with a blank calmness is a white mask and cold, empty eyes.

\---

When the creature wakes up in his box in the storage room, the first thing he feels is pain, a blinding, overwhelming pain that comes from every part of him. He is shivering again, but instead of from cold, which doesn’t even register, it is from the excruciating sensation like his nerve-endings are on fire. Slivers of scars remain from where the creature was repeatedly cut and healed and burned and tested for days. The creature’s eyes close for a moment to try to reach a state of calm indifference. Somehow, through his shaking and meditating and concentrating, he hears the familiar metal on metal sound of the door that spelled his torture. He grits his teeth and curls his tail protectively around him, bracing himself for more pain and fear. 

Something, though, is different. Instead of his box being picked up and jostled, his prison opens with a slash and a clatter. Warm hands reach inside and gently lift him out of the box. The creature is cradled close to cloth, and fingers gently stroke his mouse-like ears in a soothing gesture. The voice is gentle, too, comforting and encouraging. In the creature’s language, the voice assures him that she is getting him and all the others out of there. Distantly, the creature can hear more rattling as other cages and boxes burst open. The voice soothes them all, speaking in their respective languages. 

Then, the creature’s mouth is carefully pried open, and liquid trickles down his throat. Instantly, the pain vanishes, and the creature is left with the sweet, slightly acidic taste of oranges, his favorite food. The creature is laid down on the floor, and as he recovers, he stumbles slowly to his feet and sees his savior walking around the storage room, administering more of the liquid that healed him to the others. He takes this moment to observe the vaguely human girl.

The savior looks like the cold, cruel ones who tortured him, yet not. While there are many similarities, this one has large hawk-like wings sprouting from her back. Brown and white feathers create a mask around her eyes, which are yellow and piercing. Small, sharp talons curl from her fingers. She wears a strange cloth that is like what his tormentors wore. It is black and long sleeved and covers her arms and torso. She also wears a second black cloth that covers her legs and waist. Her bare feet hover a few inches from the floor.

Once the savior finishes, she whispers to them about a plan, about how she was once human like those others until she was experimented on, and how she thought she was the only one there being tested. How she found out about all of them, and then waited till the right moment to execute her escape plan. She explains how when they, the scientists, she calls them, came to her cage for more tests, she lashed out and then hit them with their own tranquilizers that she’d carefully stolen from her guards, one by one. She subdued all of the scientists, and gave them just enough time to run from the hidden back entrance she found.

When she completes her explanation, she peers out of the room, before hurrying them all out. The creature scurries along with everyone else, heart pounding. Just as they are about to turn a corner, the savior brings them all to a halt. She peeks around the corridor, and then disappears around it with a snarl. There is a shout and a swish then the thud of a body falling. The savior looks back at all of them, blood dripping from her talons and a tear in the cloth around her left arm. She gestures them forward and they all run again. The creature refuses to look at the dead body of the soldier as they pass by.

Before they know it, they reach the exit, slipping through the thick, metal door and heading for the protection of the dark forest. A shout comes from behind them, and the creature looks back to see more soldiers running out of the compound, weapons raised. The hawk-girl swears under her breath, and the creature runs faster and faster. A loud bang reverberates through the sky, and the creature glances to his left to see a fox-dog hybrid collapse with a pained cry. The girl turns back to scoop him up and lifts her voluminous wings to fly him to just inside the forest, moving faster than the rest of them can. More fall all around the creature as others reach the forest and disappear into the gloom. The girl flies back and forth, taking all of the fallen to the forest. 

When the injured are safe, she pauses and looks at the soldiers, her expression grim but determined. She flutters over to the creature, and draws out a hidden satchel, handing it to him.

“Take it,” she tells the creature, “it will heal the wounded.” The creature glances down at the satchel, then looks back at her, frightened and imploring. “It’ll be alright,” she reassures. Terror washes over the creature, but this time not for himself.

But he takes the satchel anyway and slips into the forest. He looks back, watching as the savior lifts herself into the air, protecting the last few of the group with her wings and her body. The creature holds out his hand helplessly as the weapons fire at the girl, making her bleed from wounds all over her body. He watches powerlessly as the rest of the escapees reach the forest, and the girl’s body falls gracefully through the air, wings stained red wrapping around her body. The resounding thud she makes as she hits the ground will haunt the creature for the rest of his life.

\---

Later, long after the soldiers have disappeared and the bangs of their weapons have ended and the deafening silence threatens to choke the creature, he makes his way back out of the forest. The others watch mournfully, from the ground and from the trees and hidden in the bushes. The creature gently opens his protector’s wings and touches her cheek. It is pale and cold, her face untouched by the open wounds over the rest of her body. She looks peaceful, asleep, at rest at last. The fox-dog she rescued, healed from the medicine she gave the creature, scurries out next, licking at her face and whimpering. More spill out from the forest, carefully lifting her body and carrying her inside.

Later, she is buried under an oak tree in the center of the forest, far, far away from the compound that tortured her most of all.

Later, the creature stands over her grave, tears dripping down his face. They place a bundle of gladiolas and bluebells where she lays.

Later, when their time comes, they remember the girl with the wings of a hawk and the heart of a lion, and they smile.


End file.
